


do you look both ways (when you cross my mind)

by whyclarke



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin Fluff, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Minor Emori/John Murphy (The 100), Post-Canon, SO MUCH FLUFF, and they're happy! which is new, minor zeke shaw/raven reyes, post reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 16:47:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13574754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whyclarke/pseuds/whyclarke
Summary: “I’ve missed -- this,” she says quietly. “You.”For a moment, he only looks at her. There’s something endless in his eyes, something wistful and tinged with an emotion she can’t place; she used to always know what he was thinking. The expanse of six years stretches between them, and she misses what’s right in front of her. Then he blinks, like waking up, and wraps a lock of her dyed hair around his fingers.“Me, too,” he says. A smile hides behind his scruffy beard, and Clarke feels like maybe they’re the only ones in the universe. Like maybe, they’re alone.“God, just kiss already,” Zeke says, and a laugh bubbles from her chest. Not that alone, it seems. Bellamy grins, ducks his head.





	do you look both ways (when you cross my mind)

**Author's Note:**

> a bellarke secret valentines fic for [jeanie](http://jeanie205.tumblr.com) \-- i hope you love it!!
> 
>  
> 
> title from boredom by tyler, the creator -- flower boy is a masterpiece and the soundtrack to this fic!  
> un beta'd, sorry for any mistakes.

It’s Valentine’s Day, they think. Of the nine of them, Zeke has the best handle on the date, but -- it’s been a while.

After weeks of bitter cold, today was a luxury; a warm southern wind stirs their hair and thaws the snowy ground, leaving muddy patches and little rivers in its wake. Raven is fairly certain that this weather will only last for a day or two, so. Valentine’s Day, or close to it.

“I don’t understand,” Clarke grouches. Her eyes are on Murphy and Emori, who aren’t actively tearing each other’s clothes off but might as well be, from the way they’re glued together in the corner of the camp. “Why is this Valentine’s Day more important than all of the other ones we’ve ignored while on the ground?”

“This Valentine’s Day, I have a boyfriend who doesn’t treat me like shit,” Raven says airly. “That makes it our top priority.” Zeke pecks her on the lips, and she smiles into his mouth, wrapping her legs around his waist.

“Shouldn’t our top priority be actually doing something about the Eligius ship?” Bellamy says, striding over to where they sit. Raven gives him the finger and he laughs, taking the seat next to Clarke. Her heart flutters at his proximity, the way he grins at her, the hand he places on her knee. It’s been happening more and more often since he got back -- the butterflies.   

“We escaped, Bellamy,” Raven says. “I think we can afford one day off.”

“Damn, Raven,” he shoots back, expression dripping with mock shock. “Zeke changed you.”

 She flips him off again.

“I don’t think that anything can really _change_ Raven,” Murphy says, wandering over with Emori by his side. “I would know -- I shot her, and she was still pain in my ass. She just had a knee brace.”

Zeke blinks, surprised, and Clarke braces for the fight that she’s certain will come next. But Raven only rolls her eyes.

“Murphy, I thought we were done with that.”

“I can nurse guilt as well as I can hold a grudge,” Murphy informs her. 

“Although the former comes far less often,” Emori adds, and then swats Murphy when he tries to pinch her side. Clarke smiles a little. Seeing them, together… she’s happy in a way she thought she’d never be again.

“What is it?” Bellamy nudges her with his knee, snapping her from her thoughts and bringing a blush to her cheeks.

“I’ve missed -- this,” she says quietly. “You.”

For a moment, he only looks at her. There’s something endless in his eyes, something wistful and tinged with an emotion she can’t place; she used to always know what he was thinking. The expanse of six years stretches between them, and she misses what’s right in front of her. Then he blinks, like waking up, and wraps a lock of her dyed hair around his fingers.

“Me, too,” he says. A smile hides behind his scruffy beard, and Clarke feels like maybe they’re the only ones in the universe. Like maybe, they’re alone.

 “God, just kiss already,” Zeke says, and a laugh bubbles from her chest. Not _that_ alone, it seems. Bellamy grins, ducks his head.

 “They’ve been like this for seven years, Z. Imagine how we’ve felt,” Raven says, waving a hand in the direction of the others. Clarke rolls her eyes.

 “I don’t know what your talking about,” she says primly, yanking Bellamy to his feet. “We’re going on a walk.” They’re almost out of the camp, hands intertwined, when she turns back to their friends.

 “Make sure you use protection,” she yells, and Bellamy tips back his head and laughs. Warmth spreads and settles in the bottom of her stomach. She likes it, she realizes. Making him laugh.

 “Right back at you, asshole,” Raven retorts, but they’re too far away to hear.

 “I give them twenty minutes,” Echo says, in the silence that follows. Madi looks up from the fire.

 “I give them ten.”

  


It’s quiet as they walk. She used to hate the silence, when it was just her -- life on the ground was filled with animals and bugs and teenagers all talking at once, and quiet moments on the Ark were always punctuated by the white noise of machine hum; the absence of noise after Praimfaya felt like a piece of herself had gone missing. With the two of them, though, words had always been a formality.

“It was silent,” she says suddenly, and he turns to her. “The forest.”

“Clarke…”

“All the animals had died. It wasn’t until you got back that it started to -- wake up." 

“I missed you. Every damn day.” He scrubs a hand against his stubbly chin. “I thought I had moved on, but. I saw you, alive, and suddenly I was closing the door all over again.”

“You were thinking with your head. There’s no way I would have made it back in time; I know that. So do you.”

“Doesn’t mean it didn’t suck, though,” he says, and barks out a laugh. “We’ve come a long way from the dropship.”

“Yeah,” she says quietly, and for a moment she’s 18 again. Afraid, and praying to God that they survive if only to outlive her. Six years -- it’s a long time. She’s known this forest for longer than she’s known Bellamy, and the magnitude of it all strikes her. Time, passing. “God, Bellamy, we’re practically _old._ ”

He laughs at that, too, but there’s real humor in it.

They lapse into silence again, but it’s different now. Lighter. She was worried, at first -- maybe they just wouldn’t fit anymore. But then she saw him, and he wrapped her up in his arms, and she felt silly for ever thinking it could be anything but the two of them against the world. Bellamy and Clarke -- it just makes sense.

“I just --” he starts, and his voice is rough around the edges. “I really missed you,” he repeats.

“Me too, Bellamy.” Quiet. The sunlight dances on the forest floor, streaming through bare branches. His eyes are molten, flecked with gold. They’re side by side. The two of them have always felt inevitable, in a way -- even the second apocalypse couldn’t keep them apart for long.

She knocks her shoulder into his. “Want to see something cool?”

  


Clarke tugs him through the forest, fingers tangled with his. He’s laughing a little, desperately trying to avoid the obstacles she slips past with ease. She knows this forest in a way that makes his heart ache with regret; he should have been here with her. But then she turns and smiles at him, and he forgets what grief feels like.

At one point, he steps in a muddy puddle, and she laughs so hard that he doesn’t even complain about the frigid water soaking his threadbare sock. Having her here, in front of him… he’s never really believed in a higher power, but he thanks each God he’s read about anyways. And he’s more than willing to deal with cold feet for another moment with her hand in his.

He’s about to ask her what they’re doing when she stops, so suddenly that he stumbles into her back. She blushes a little, and he bites back a grin.

“We’re here,” she says, and anything he might have said disappears.

 

The forest is glowing.

 

The leaves on the evergreens are veined with a golden light that pools where there should be shadow. Where the tree bark cracks and peels, the light spills into Bellamy’s outstretched fingers. It plays off of the contours of his face and the curls of his hair; she wants to paint him. His lips are parted, eyes wide with wonder and awe. Gold dances off his thick lashes, off the freckles splashed across the bridge of his nose. He looks regal, gold dusting his shoulders and the curve of his jaw; he looks like he is made of the forest and it of him.

“This is… incredible,” he breathes, eyes glued to the majesty of the radioactive forest.

 “It is,” she says, but her eyes are on him.

 

They’re sitting against a gold-infused tree. Her head is in his lap, and he’s idly playing with her hair; occasionally, he’ll steal a glance at the glowing foliage above him. Something about today feels hidden from time, like maybe they could stay here forever and still be back at camp before dark.

 “How did you find this place?” he asks, and she shifts her head to look at him.

“I wandered a lot, before I found Madi,” she replies. “It had been almost exactly a year since Praimfaya, and I just felt so… hopeless. Like I wasn’t going to last for another four years. Little did I know, you were going to be two years late,” she adds, teasing, and he tugs on her hair. “Yeah. But, I found this place, and I guess -- I don’t know. It reminded me of you. It sounds stupid, but.”

“It’s not stupid,” he says, and his voice is so insistent that she sits up. A beat -- then, softer, “There wasn't a lot to do on the Ring after we got everything set up. Well, after Raven and Monty set everything up,” and his tone is so dry that she snorts. “I wrote letters. To pass the time, I mean. I just -- told you stuff: what my day was like, the weird shit Echo said, how bad algae tastes, you know. Mundane things. I think maybe I still had hope, even after all that time. I could feel you out here, somehow.” He sniffs. “Thanks for proving me right.”

She kisses him.

Their teeth knock together at first, and she laughs a little, tries to pull away, but then one of his hands is tangled in her hair and the other is pulling her into his chest and she wraps her legs around his waist and, _oh._ This is what waking up feels like.

And now she’s got a fistful of his thin blue t-shirt to pull him closer to her and the kiss turns messier, deeper, more desperate. She’s trying to tell him that she called him every day, cramming six years of _I love you_ into one kiss and he’s replying _I know, and I love you too,_ and trying to make her forget that he ever left her side. She runs her fingers through his hair and he groans into her mouth and _god,_ how she’s missed him.

They break apart, breathing hard, but his eyes drink up every detail of her, roving across the little scars she’s collected over the years and cataloguing each one. It’s enough to have her leaning in to kiss him again, snickering when he chases after her lips.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Clarke,” he says softly. She blinks.

“I’d forgotten.” A beat. “Raven’s never going to shut up about this. Us.”

“Us?”

“I mean, if you want to,” she says, suddenly shy, and turns away.

“Clarke.” He tilts her chin until she’s looking into his eyes. “I’ve wanted this -- us -- since that first Unity Day on the ground.”

“Oh,” she exhales. The words curl up in her stomach like a cat, soft and warm. Then, she laughs a little. A cunning smirk plays across her lips. “I must have you wrapped around my little finger.”

“Do you, now,” he says, playful. She likes him like this -- at ease. Nothing on his shoulders. If she could, she’d lift the sky from his shoulders. 

“I mean, if it’s really been that long, I bet you would do anything I asked,” she teases.

“What did you have in mind, Princess?” He looks at her and she wonders how she ever thought that he wouldn’t come home to her. That he wouldn’t tear apart the universe to find her.

“Just -- stay here. With me.”

“Always,” he says, and kisses her again.

  
  


The sun is setting when they finally return home. The sunset stains the sky blue and purple, stars emerging from behind the sunlight. The fire still blazes, stronger than ever, and they’re roasting a strange deerlike animal over the flames.

Clarke steals a skewer of cooked meat for herself and Bellamy when they come back, and the motion is so similar to those first few days on the ground that she aches for Wells. But her friends are here, and Bellamy has cleared a spot next to him for her to sit, and she thinks that maybe this is what it’s like to be happy.

He kisses her when she sits, the movement so new and yet so familiar, too, like an old friend she can’t quite remember.

 

And it’s Murphy -- _Murphy --_ who gives them shit about it for the next year.

 

 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos inspire me to keep writing! thank you for all of your support <33


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